


Winter Song

by elletromil



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:54:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletromil/pseuds/elletromil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A snowstorm is brewing in the Shire but that doesn't prevent Bilbo from enjoying a good pipe before retiring for the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bilbo

**Author's Note:**

> That fic isn't done yet, there's gonna be three part in total, but by the end, it's gonna be some unashamed fluff because I like fluff and Winter is the best time of the year for it. The two other parts should be up quite soon, one is already half finished.
> 
> This is a everybody lives/nobody dies AU where Bilbo went back to the Shire after the events of BofTA and you don't really need to know anything else to read it :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy and if you find any mistakes be kind and tell me :)

Months had passed already since Bilbo’s return to his beloved Shire. Since then, most Hobbits had stopped murmuring wherever he went even though he knew for sure that he was still a well-discussed subject amongst them. But as days turned to weeks turned to months and Bilbo seemed happy doing proper Hobbit-y things instead of running after Dwarves, many had shrugged it off as a somewhat long fleeting queerness most probably brought upon Bilbo by that strange old fellow Gandalf.

At first, Bilbo hadn’t minded the wide berth everyone gave him. To be honest, he still didn’t really mind that most of his visitors were his younger cousins, those who were still children, coming to see if he could be convinced into telling one of his tales of far-off lands, frightening creatures and noble warriors. Yet, he longed sometimes for the company of even more raucous beings than the children, the even simpler acceptance he had been accustomed to...

Bilbo sighed dejectedly. Those days were gone, never to come back. The Dwarves dwelled once more within the Halls of their beloved Mountain and nothing would ever chase them away again. They would not need of a small Hobbit anytime soon.

He wished he could say the same for himself about the Dwarves, except that without his noticing, between the fighting and running for their lives and the merry evenings by the campfire glow, they had become his family. A strange family indeed, but the perfect one for such a queer Hobbit as Bilbo Baggins. And Hobbits were not made to be apart from their family.

Even more so now that the colder days were coming back and with them, the memories of last year assailing him stronger than ever.

He didn’t think his heart would be whole again.

~~~

Another supper without unexpected guests and Bilbo debated the wisdom of a good pipe in the garden before retiring for the night. It had been a ritual for him since before his adventure, but it seemed that this Winter would bring snowfall even to Bag End. He pondered for a bit before deciding to don his warmest clothes and brave the cold, for what was the cold compared to a Dragon?

The night was dark, clouds hiding the light of the moon and stars and strong winds indicating that a storm was in fact brewing. His heart more heavy than usual, he did something he hadn’t done since his departure from Erebor.

He sang.

_This is my winter song to you_  
 _The storm is coming soon_  
 _It rolls in from the sea_

_My voice, a beacon in the night_  
 _My words will be your light_  
 _To carry you to me_

He nearly stopped when he realised what words were falling from his lips.

Yet, he did not. He could not.

It was a foolish thing to hope for decidedly. However Bilbo had long since stopped pretending he wasn’t a fool, at least to himself.

_Is love alive?_  
 _Is love alive?_  
 _Is love..._

He had often wondered if he had been imagining his closeness to Thorin before the dreadful matter with the Arkenstone. Or at least giving it more importance than he should have.

In simpler things, he had often forgotten that Dwarves and Hobbits did not share in the same habits and customs. Surely a would-be Dwarf-King would not have been looking twice at a simple Hobbit.

_They say that things just can not grow_  
 _Beneath the winter snow_  
 _Or so I have been told_

Thorin could never have been accused of being affectionate and many would probably have called him as cold as the snow that was starting to fall on the Shire.

However, they would have been wrong, for Bilbo had seen the love with which he looked at his nephews, the pride glowing in his gaze when it fell on any member of his company.

Maybe he had imagined the tenderness softening his eyes when he had been looking at him. He preferred to think not. Bilbo had at least earned Thorin’s friendship somewhere along the way.

_They say we’re buried far_  
 _Just like a distant star_  
 _I simply can not hold_

Of course, Bilbo hadn’t done a good job keeping it. The many reassurances of the soon-to-be crowned Dwarf-King mattered not, not when his wariness towards the Hobbit had been plain to see.

Bilbo would have like to make amends, but there was not a lot a small Hobbit could do for a Dwarf-King. In the end, it had been easier to just leave Thorin to the more pressing matters of his beloved Mountain than to try and rekindle a friendship he wished could be so much more.

_Is love alive?_  
 _Is love alive?_  
 _Is love alive?_

The others had tried to change his mind, but when Thorin had simply assured him that he would forever be welcomed amongst the Dwarves of Erebor, he had taken his leave.

Loving someone was also about letting go.

_This is my winter song_  
 _December never felt so wrong_  
 _Cause you’re not where you belong_  
 _Inside my arms_

A shiver ran through his body and he lost himself in the memory of sharing the warmth of Thorin’s cloak, their sides pressed together.

He would give anything to be on the road again with his raucous and boastful Dwarf-family, Thorin a firm presence at his side. Even if the price to pay would be to let the Sackville-Baggins have the ownership of Bag End, he would not hesitate, going as far as giving his remaining silverware to Lobelia as a house-warming gift if it had to come to that.

Another shiver shook him out of his musings.

_I still believe in summer days_  
 _The seasons always change_  
 _And life will find a way_

Maybe when more clement temperatures came back, he would take the road again to visit his family. However begrudgingly given, he had that long-standing welcome to Erebor. There was no need to see the King more than necessary, but surely the others would share in his delight to be once more reunited?

Fili and Kili at least would rejoice having the chance to present their mother to the Hobbit and Bilbo had to admit he regretted never meeting the formidable Dis.

_I’ll be your harvester of light_  
 _And send it out tonight_  
 _So we can start again_

And surely his absence had made Thorin’s heart grow fonder?

Made him remember that Bilbo had left the comfort of his home just so they could know the comfort of theirs again. That even though he had been afraid and would never be a warrior, he had not shied away from dangers. At least, not always.

Perhaps, he would even remember how easily he had been smiling in the presence of his Hobbit companion.

And no one knew when the luck that seemed to (mostly) always cling to him would be needed.

Certainly a King would have need of such a quality?

_Is love alive?_  
 _Is love alive?_  
 _Is love alive?_

Bilbo had wallowed in self-pity long enough. His love may never be returned, but he was hardly the first Hobbit to suffer that fate. If they had survived, so could he. Besides, _they_ hadn’t been adventurers; he was made of stronger stuff.

And friendship was better than nothing, especially if it meant he would be amongst his Dwarf-family once more. No Hobbits should be as he presently was; lonely and homesick.

_This is my winter song_  
 _December never felt so wrong_  
 _Cause you’re not where you belong_  
 _Inside my arms_

He would just have to make it through Winter.

A hardship, certainly, with the memories of the past year still vivid in his mind. It had not been perfect of course, far from it in fact, but it had been somewhat better than this cold and lonely Winter in the Shire.

Strange how he hadn’t felt quite as cold back then. Now, even with a fire roaring he kept wishing for warm furs and a strong arm around his shoulders.

_This is my winter song to you_  
 _The storm is coming soon_  
 _It rolls in from the sea_

The winds had finally brought the clouds with their heavy snow upon Bag End and only a fool would have stayed outside.

But a fool was precisely what Bilbo was.

He could not go in until he finished his song, his promise.

Even if only the howling winds and fat snowflakes were to bear witness to his words, he would hold true what resolution they had brought him.

_My love, a beacon in the night_  
 _My words will be your light_  
 _To carry you to me_

_Is love alive?_  
 _Is love alive?_  
 _Is love alive?_

Thorin may never return his love, but Bilbo was all right with that.

He loved enough for the two of them.

 

With a last look at the road he would soon take again, Bilbo went back inside.


	2. Thorin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A snowstorm is brewing in the Shire but that doesn't prevent Thorin for looking for a familiar door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Already another chapter for you :)  
> The next one will be a bit longer since it's the Holidays, but should be up in early January at the latest.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Thorin was quite happy to be alone that night.

Well, _happy_ was maybe too strong a word, but he at least didn’t have to deal with the sniggering of certain nephews concerning his being lost.

 _Again_.

At first glance, you would think it easy to find your way among those green hills and you would never have been more wrong in your entire life. Hobbits were far more cunning than anyone gave them credit for.

He wouldn’t mind so much if the Winter winds weren’t blowing so hard, bearers of a brewing storm.

If he didn’t find his destination soon, he would have to beg some good Hobbit for a bed for the night. He prayed it didn’t come to that.

His prayers seemed to be answered when he heard a familiar voice ringing in the cold night.

_This is my winter song to you_  
 _The storm is coming soon_  
 _It rolls in from the sea_

_My voice, a beacon in the night_  
 _My words will be your light_  
 _To carry you to me_

The words were strangely fitting, but it couldn’t be more than a mere coincidence. Bilbo had no way of knowing of his coming as he had sworn his kin to secrecy. Even Fili and Kili would be kept in check by Dis.

Yet he let himself be guided by the voice he had not heard in far too long.

_Is love alive?_  
 _Is love alive?_  
 _Is love..._

Now that he could hear the lovely tones again, he realised just how much he had longed for them.

He regretted once more not insisting that Bilbo stay with them, with him, within the walls of Erebor. That he shared in their joys and health. But he had understood more than anyone the call of home. After everything he had put the Hobbit through, after he had to suffer the horrors of his gold-sickness, there was nothing he could begrudge him, even if it meant having him go.

Loving someone was also about letting go.

_They say that things just can not grow_  
 _Beneath the winter snow_  
 _Or so I have been told_

He had seen the wariness the Hobbit felt in his presence and he could not fault him for it. It had been a wonder Bilbo had stayed for as long as he had.

He had wished he could make good on his personal promise to court the Hobbit as befitting the intended of a King, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to actions. Not when the warmth had seemingly deserted their interactions.

If love had once tinted their actions towards one another, it had long since fled Bilbo’s heart.

_They say we’re buried far_  
 _Just like a distant star_  
 _I simply can not hold_

He had put a stone above the life and security of Bilbo and he was now paying the price. It didn’t matter that the Arkenstone was the Heart of the Mountain. The Mountain wasn’t Thorin and there were no jewels he would rather hold in his hands than his precious Hobbit.

Not that he really thought he would ever get his wish, but he hope to at least convince Bilbo into coming to visit the rest of the company and see what splendors he had help take back from the Dragon since he had left before the restoring had been completed. And if he agreed, maybe his efforts to rekindle their friendship would be halfway met. The road had always held many surprises for Thorin each time he had journeyed.

_Is love alive?_  
 _Is love alive?_  
 _Is love alive?_

He had stopped long before undertaking the Quest to look for his One and would never have thought to find his in their small burglar. But size mattered not in love except for that of the heart and Bilbo’s heart surely could encompass the great of Middle-Earth. The courage that would drive such a creature of comfort away from its home and into Danger’s arms for the sake of mere strangers needed vast dwellings.

He could only hope that from strangers, they had become friends for the Hobbit. It was a small thing to wish for when each members of their company had found such an admirable brother-in-arms in him.

_This is my winter song_  
 _December never felt so wrong_  
 _Cause you’re not where you belong_  
 _Inside my arms_

And maybe he would get to hold Bilbo in his arms once more even if it would only be to keep the cold of the night away from the Hobbit. It would be enough to warm Thorin’s heart for a few days.

And he would no longer always be looking out for a glimpse of his body even though miles and miles separated them. He would make sure to keep the Hobbit in his sight at all times, even back to Erebor. Being a King didn’t mean Thorin was above using the clear affection his nephews had for their burglar. If his friendship wasn’t welcome he wouldn’t force it on Bilbo, but he would do anything to bear witness to as many of his smiles as he could, even if none were meant for him.

_I still believe in summer days_  
 _The seasons always change_  
 _And life will find a way_

Yet, the words echoing gently through the air seemed to hold a good presage for the Dwarf.

Certainly, Bilbo would see the changes in him, changes all due to him and his gentle ways. He would see that the only riches is heart longed for were the beings he held most dear, Bilbo being the first of them.

_I’ll be your harvester of light_  
 _And send it out tonight_  
 _So we can start again_

Thorin could only be a better King with Bilbo at his sides to remind him of the most over-looked and yet also the most important things in life. Possessions were only good if you had loved ones to share them with.

A home was good only if laughter echoed within its halls.

He could never forget the horrid way he had treated Bilbo while suffering from the gold-sickness, but hopefully he would be allowed to make amends until his last breath.

_Is love alive?_  
 _Is love alive?_  
 _Is love alive?_

Bilbo may never return his love, but Thorin was alright with that.

He loved enough for two.

He would be content just sharing his companionship and working everyday to earn one of his smiles.

_This is my winter song_  
 _December never felt so wrong_  
 _Cause you’re not where you belong_  
 _Inside my arms_

Nothing could be worse than the months that he had passed without the presence of his beloved Hobbit. Always finding himself with new things he wanted to share with him, always wondering what opinion he would have on different matters.

Wishing he could show him the magnificence of his restored Kingdom and see the same wonder on his features as when he first looked at the Elven city.

Hoping against all hopes that he still had someone with whom to share his warmth on cold nights.

_This is my winter song to you_  
 _The storm is coming soon_  
 _It rolls in from the sea_

Snow was now falling all around Thorin, but he could not bring himself to care, not when he was so near his journey’s end. He thought he could recognized his surroundings from the last time and even if he had not, Bilbo’s voice was definitely closer than before.

_My love, a beacon in the night_  
 _My words will be your light_  
 _To carry you to me_

_Is love alive?_  
 _Is love alive?_  
 _Is love alive?_

Silence fell once more in the night, but Thorin did not care, for he now knew the way, remembering from all those months ago.

Once he sighted the familiar round door, he couldn’t stop his smile. Finally...

Now in front of the door, he had no doubts of the warm welcome he would be the subject of once Bilbo caught sight of him. He had always been the most welcoming creature, even to strange Dwarves such as they had been.

Such a big heart needed more than only bravery residing inside it. Such a heart needed people to love and hold dear within its warmth.

 

Thorin took a deep breath and knocked on the door.


	3. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Thorin finally make it home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!
> 
> Here's the last part of this fic :) It took me longer than I expected even if it's still early January, because writing in another language is far harder than it looks like and my idea come faster to me than I can really write/type them. Yet I'm still happy with it because even though I left some part out, I think it's actually better than what I wanted before I started writing.
> 
> Hope you enjoy :D

Bilbo was in the process of tidying before going to bed when someone knocked on his front door. He froze a moment, unprepared for such an occurrence. Who in their right mind would be out at this hour in a snowstorm? And even if it was someone who had been caught by surprise by the dreadful temperature, surely they wouldn’t ask for the renowned bachelor’s hospitality when they could ask any of the families around. Though, after consideration, Bilbo could see the appeal of a private guest room in a house without any curious children running within its walls.

Another series of quick knocks brought him out of his musings and he hurriedly made his way to the door. No matter who it was, it simply wouldn’t do to make them wait so long into the cold and the snow.

He opened the door and only his grip on it prevented him from tripping in his astonishment at seeing who it was.

“Thorin?! But wha—... I mean, how...?” Bilbo spluttered, somewhat flustered. To say he hadn’t expected to ever see the Dwarf-King standing in his doorway again would have been an understatement. However much he wrung his brain, he could not for the life of him find a reason why he would be there, until worry took a hold of his heart. “Why are you here? Did something happen in Erebor? Did something happen to the _others_!?”

He would have continued with his questions if Thorin hadn’t interrupted him, reassurance in his voice.

“The others are just fine. At least they were when I left Erebor and I fail to think of any reasons it still wouldn’t be so. As for the reason of my coming here...Well maybe it would be best discussed inside?” The Dwarf was looking at him with a raised eyebrow and it was as if the cold of the howling winds and the snowflakes falling around them suddenly registered in his brain.

“Oh my! Of course, of course! Come in, where are my manners?” Bilbo ushered him inside and started fretting. “You must be quite cold, at least the fire is still roaring in the chimney... Are you hungry, it _is_ late, did you have any supper at all?”

Without waiting for any answers, he took Thorin to the kitchen, sitting him at the table, rapidly putting together a meal for the Dwarf. The latter was far from complaining, as he _hadn’t_ stopped for any evening meal, preferring to arrive at Bilbo’s quickly. Of course, he hadn’t count on his getting lost, so he had worked quite the appetite. Seeing Thorin starting to munch happily on the food and thinking of nothing more he could do for his guest at the moment, the Hobbit sat down in front of him.

Only silence was shared between them for several minutes until Bilbo couldn’t take it any longer. “Why are you here Thorin?”

Done with his meal, the Dwarf pushed his plate away and met the other’s gaze with seriousness. “I came here for you.”

At that, Bilbo wouldn’t have been able to stop his blush even if his life had depended on it. Which was pretty stupid really, because there was no way at all Thorin meant it as it sounded like. However, before he could think of anything to say, Thorin went on.

“I came to ask you to consider coming back to Erebor with me. You left before it was restored to its former glory, but more importantly, you left before I could make amends for the poor way I treated you and before I could properly thank you for all you’ve done for my people, my family and me.”

Right.

Maybe Thorin really meant it exactly as it sounded like. Which wasn’t helping his blush at all.

While Bilbo had been trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Thorin truly seemed to be here for _him_ , the Dwarf had been patiently waiting for an answer. “Well? What do you say?”

“Oh! Herm, well, yes, I mean, I was just thinking a visit was in order, well no, what I mean is—” and really Bilbo wished he would learn how to just _shut up_ sometime. Or learn how to say what was really on his mind. A mere _visit_ wasn’t exactly what he had been thinking about after all.

It was only when his face seemed to fall apart that Bilbo realised that Thorin had been looking at him with hope. To the King’s credit, he recomposed himself so fast Bilbo would have thought he had simply imagined the brief moment of vulnerability if his own heart hadn’t clenched quite so hurtfully.

“Of course, your home is in the Shire, I can’t possibly ask you to uproot yourself only for the convenience of a bunch of Dwarves.”

It hurt to hear Thorin talk so self-derisively, but Bilbo was mostly astonished. “You... _You_ want _me_ to come live under your Mountain? Permanently?!?” He couldn’t say he was against the idea, far from it in fact, but it had been only mere hours ago that he was convinced the Dwarf-King barely tolerated him.

Said Dwarf-King winced, as if from a blow. “I know it is a foolish hope to have, but you’ve been dearly missed since you’ve been gone. I would—, that is to say, the rest of the company and myself would be content to have you back with us for however long you desire.”

Bilbo wanted more than anything else to agree, but his Baggins’ sense of propriety was still holding him back. “But... But what would think your people about a Hobbit living in Erebor?”

“None would dare to oppose their King, not even in speech. And if they did, I would remind them that the Hobbit who made it possible to reclaim their homes has even more rights to live within the halls of the Mountain than anyone else.”

And there came back his blush.

Hope was back in Thorin’s eyes as he had yet to decline the offer and Bilbo couldn’t think of any more objections. Hadn’t he been the one earlier to promise himself he would do anything to bring the luck that cling to him to the Dwarf-King? Who was he to deny his King’s wish?

For, even though it was atypical for Hobbits to swear fealty to anyone, Bilbo had long ago accepted Thorin as his King.

“Oh well, in that case, if you are sure, I could probably put my affairs in order so we could leave as early as the first days of Spring?”

If he had any more doubts about Thorin’s honesty on the matter, his beaming smile put them to rest.

“You won’t ever come to regret your decision, I promise you this Bilbo Baggins of the Shire.”

It was a nice reassurance, even if it was unneeded.

Of course he would never regret it.

He was going back to his family and it seemed as if the one who unknowingly held his heart inside his hands at least desired his friendship.

It was more than he could have hoped for only an hour ago.

~

Thorin was sitting in a comfortable armchair facing the still roaring fire, waiting for Bilbo to come back with the tea.

It was with a contented heart that he was waiting, his eyes roaming on the room. He hadn’t really had the luxury of doing so the last time he had been here and though it was no Erebor, no one could have denied that Bag End had a lovely feel to it. Maybe even a bit like home.

Bilbo finally made it to the sitting room, balancing a tray with tea and biscuits in his arms and Thorin quickly rose to his feet to help him.

Bilbo offered a smile breathtaking in his simplicity as thanks and Thorin came to the conclusion that Bag End was only ever so _homely_ because of the Hobbit that resided there. Without him, it would only ever be a simple Hobbit hole. A well-build and well-furnished one, but still nothing like a home.

Lost in his thoughts, he had stayed standing while the Hobbit had taken his own seat and Bilbo was now looking at him interrogatively.

And really, Thorin should not be tempting the Fates more than he already had, he should be content that Bilbo had accepted to come live in his Kingdom and leave it at that, at least for now. But he had always find Bilbo at his most beautiful when his features were bathed in the warm glow of the fire and tonight was no exception. At any rate, wouldn’t it be better to know now if his affections had even a remote chance of being accepted one day? Face the disappointment now instead of later and then concentrate his efforts on becoming the friend Bilbo so deserved to have? Surely, Bilbo wouldn’t change his mind only because he didn’t reciprocate Thorin’s feelings?

“Is something the matter Thorin?” Bilbo was frowning now which prompt him to action.

“Nothing is the matter, my dear friend, I merely...” Thorin kneeled before Bilbo and the Hobbit’s frown deepened, his enquiry clear in his eyes. “I... I just don’t want anything that I say next to change your choice of coming back home to us.”

It was maybe a presumptuous way to word it, assuming Bilbo would one day recognized the walls of Erebor as his own home, but Bilbo didn’t seemed to take any offence, only a small blush making his way on his cheeks. “The only way I’m not coming is if you tell me that in reality you want nothing to do with me.” Thorin cursed at everything he ever did that abruptly made Bilbo’s eyes cloud with hurt and doubts.

“No! You have to trust me when I say that _that_ would never be the case.” Even if his affections were not returned, Bilbo would still be his One. “I made a grave mistake when I did not speak to you about how your future departure was affecting me, except that I could not possibly deny you your wish to go back to your home. But your absence by my sides made me grow miserable... I know I have no rights to ask you to accept, but I still beg you to consider it. If you were to allow it, I would court you and hopefully make you my Consort.”

He could see he had shocked Bilbo, but hoped he hadn’t offended him. He knew not of the ways and different customs of his beloved’s race. But it was too late to take it back now.

“I love you Bilbo Baggins of the Shire. If you don’t think you could ever return my feelings, I shall never speak of it again. But know that my heart will always be yours. Now tell me, do you give me permission to try and win your heart?”

Silence seemed to stretch between them, Bilbo’s cheeks redder than he had ever seen them, and Thorin started to fear that he had just committed the worst mistake of his life. With any luck, the Hobbit could still be convinced to return to Erebor and he wouldn’t have to face the disappointment in the eyes of the rest of the Company.

Already thinking of what he could do for the Hobbit in order to be forgiven, he was somewhat surprised when Bilbo slid down his seat so he could be directly in front of him.

“I can’t give you the permission,” he took a hold of the Dwarf-King’s hands and his eyes were warmer than even the fire at his back, “for you have been holding my heart for a long time already.”

The words took a moment to sink in, but when they did, nothing could have stop Thorin from hugging his Hobbit close to him. 

“I do not deserve such precious jewel, but I will forever take the outmost care of it.” He leaned away from the embrace and it seemed as if there was a new fondness in Bilbo’s eyes, but Thorin had some doubts that it had always been there and he had merely been too blind to see. “May I kiss you?”

His only answer were warm lips upon in own and delighted laughter.

And when Bilbo offered him a hand to lead him to his bedroom, it felt like coming home.

~~~

When they finally arrived in Erebor, night had already fallen. Yet, it still surprised Bilbo when Thorin led him to what seemed to be private quarters. Middle of the night or not, he had been sure at least some formalities needed to be taken care of as soon as they reached the Mountain. Thorin was the King after all.

Thorin probably felt his hesitation, because he explained without prompting. “It is late and I left Erebor in good hands. Our people will have to wait tomorrow; tonight is for family.”

At that, Bilbo only blushed. It would never cease to amaze him how Thorin so easily talked about “their” people, “their” Kingdom, even if he had known of the Dwarf-King’s desire to take him as his Consort for quite some time now.

However any thoughts fled his mind once they went through a door and they entered a room and Bilbo didn’t have the time to look around before he was lifted in two strong pairs of arm, twin cries of his name ringing in his ear.

“Bilbo! You’re back!” Fili and Kili then proceeded to lead him in a merry dance, if one could call endless rounds without any rhythm where one participant’s feet never touched the floor a "dance".

They finally let him back onto the ground, but before Bilbo could admonished them for their treatment, he was drawn into another hug. “It is good to see you again Bilbo!”

And it was good to see them all too, but in their excitement, Dwarves seemed to forget that Hobbits were not as sturdy as them. “Yes it is, but I still need to breathe Bofur!"

Bofur leaned back with a sheepish smile at having forgotten his strength, but Bilbo’s face was alight with such delight that it was clear everything was already forgiven.

Now that they weren’t pressed closed together, the Dwarf’s gaze fell on Bilbo’s hair or, more precisely, the braids and beads that were now adorning his head. Thorin, not far behind tensed slightly at the other Dwarf’s examination. Even if Bilbo had had no close family left to protest the courtship, Bofur, being his closest friend in the company, would have all the rights any close family member would have had. He didn’t think he would deny the King the courtship of his One, but he could make it so much more difficult by demanding that Thorin proved he would treat Bilbo as he so much deserved. And Thorin himself wouldn’t begrudge Bofur if he did.

But the King’s worries were unnecessary, as a happy smile appeared on the miner’s face. “I see someone finally spoke his mind. Has a date already been decided upon?” Bofur looked at Thorin with approval clear in his eyes while Bilbo was busy blushing and spluttering and the rest of the Company was cheering at the good news.

After that, it was a blurry of too strong hugs and finally meeting close family members of the other Dwarves that Bilbo already felt like knowing. Everyone was talking at the same time, telling the Hobbit of everything that had happened in Erebor since his departure, some remembering their own courtship while looking adoringly at their spouses, others arguing the amount of money they had really bet and the terms of said bet, while the younger ones seemed to be scheming something the Hobbit was sure he would come to know far too soon. And all the while, he could feel Thorin’s presence at his sides.

He turned towards Thorin, surprising an adoring look, and he couldn’t help but smile and move closer to him. The Dwarf arched an eyebrow interrogatively at him, concerns clear in his eyes, but Bilbo laughed gently, shaking his head to reassure him.

“It’s good to be home.”

None of the others had hugged him tighter than Thorin did at that moment.

~~~

Inside a mountain in a Dwarven Kingdom there lived a Hobbit. It was far from common, very strange in fact, and Bilbo Baggins was probably the only Hobbit not living in the Shire or its surroundings. But Hobbits made their home where their families were and a Dwarf-family was the family Bilbo had found for his own.

He might always be known as the queer Hobbit who had left his house running after adventures and Dwarves, but he would also never feel lonely nor homesick.

Bilbo was quite content with his fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this is it. I really hope you liked it, because personally, it's one of my favourite I wrote, along with Jewels of Flowers, even though at first the fic I wanted to write didn't look like this at all. The song would have been there, but in the first part Bilbo would have sung for a dead Thorin and the second part would have been Thorin singing for a Bilbo who gave his life for him in the BotFA... Quite different indeed, but I can't write sad-fic for the life of me, so you get the happy version instead :D
> 
> As always if you spot a mistake, tell me so I can correct it :)


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